


for love to ever last

by stjudes



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Childhood Friends, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, House Party, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Alternating, Pining, Roommates, chanyeol calls baekhyun a ripe twink, leather pants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 03:18:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11750961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjudes/pseuds/stjudes
Summary: chanyeol and leather pants don't mix well. that's why kyungsoo's there to save the day.oh, and then they kiss.





	for love to ever last

**Author's Note:**

> i was watching friends and during that one episode where ross can't pull his leather pants back up i was like "wow this reminds me of chanyeol." and so this happened. enjoy! (minimally edited)

Throughout years of friendship with Kyungsoo, one thing has proven itself true time and time again: Chanyeol should always, always,  _ always  _ listen to Kyungsoo. Like when Chanyeol decided to live on nothing but cup noodles for three weeks straight to save up money for a new guitar and ended up having to get his stomach pumped. Or, when Chanyeol bought weed from the sketchy guy with a rubix cube collection down the hall from their dorm and paid fifty dollars for a bag of italian seasoning, despite Kyungsoo’s warning that the guy was definitely tricking him. And how could he forget last fourth of July, when Chanyeol climbed out of the attic window and dragged a sled onto the roof of his parents house (Kyungsoo’s warnings grew louder and more frantic with every step he took towards the top) in order to slide from the roof to the pool. He came out of it with a broken wrist and a bill for the missing roof tiles hanging over his head for the next ten years.

So basically, Kyungsoo has a talent for sensing eminent danger, and Chanyeol (who has a knack for getting into danger wherever he goes) should appreciate his warnings more. He's like Chanyeol’s own personal canary in the coal mine.

Tonight, though. Tonight was not a night to be playing it safe. Once a year Jongdae threw a gigantic party to celebrate their last days of summer freedom before it was time to go back to school, and going to college hadn't halted his tradition. Having access to the entire university’s student directory had transformed his fairly tame affair into a gargantuan event that often ended up sprawling out of his parents’ mansion and into the street, complete with fireworks, unlimited access to his father’s liquor cabinet, and plenty of trouble for Chanyeol to get into. The last bit was exciting for Chanyeol and anxiety-inducing for Kyungsoo, who usually spent the night clutching a Diet Coke and pretending not to hover.

“I'm actually begging you not to wear those,” Kyungsoo comments, deep voice tinged around the edges with exasperation and just a little bit of dread. That, of course, makes Chanyeol even more determined to stuff himself into the pair of shiny leather pants in his hands. They've been hanging forgotten in his closet for the past two years- he brought them from home to dorm to the shoebox of an apartment he now shares with Kyungsoo. Now is as good a time as ever to finally put them to use.

If he can get them on. The skinniness of the legs looks a little intimidating.

“Can you even get them on?” Kyungsoo asks, one eyebrow arched. He's reclined back on his elbows on Chanyeol’s messy bed, posture relaxed and familiar like he’s laid there a million times before. Which he has. The familiarity with which Kyungsoo treats his room is kind of sexy and Chanyeol can't quite figure out why. No wonder they call him a sap. 

“Hey, first of all, fuck you. Second of all, yes I absolutely can. Watch.” Kyungsoo makes a strange noise that sounds like  _ kerfleghin _ . Chanyeol fumbles with the button, turning around so Kyungsoo can't see the red burn rising to his face. “Or don't watch. Your, um, your pick. Your presence at my strip tease isn't mandatory.”

“It's not? And who would fend off all the big burly men trying to creep on you, if I'm not there?” Kyungsoo’s voice is low, gravelly with comfort and sweet with the teasing. Chanyeol’s glad he’s still turned away. He wonders if the eyes on his back are just his imagination trying to give him hope, or if they're real.

Not like it's a big deal. Chanyeol’s seen Kyungsoo undress a million times before, watched him pull his shirt off in one fluid motion, dragged his eyes away from his soft stomach and the feathering of hair leading down from his belly button before his gaze becomes incriminating. He always has to remind himself he doesn't want to change things. There's no point in ruining what they've got. It's too rare, too important.

“I'm a big burly man. I don't need you to fight for me. You can sit in my pocket and feed me snacks- fuck, these are slippery,” Chanyeol grunts out, wriggling the leather up past his calves. It's probably not a good sign that they're  _ already _  a tight fit, but Chanyeol’s not about to give up so easily. That would mean Kyungsoo would be proven right, and for the duration of the party his eyes would dart down to Chanyeol’s (non-leather) pants and smirk in triumph. It would be infuriating.

Kyungsoo laughs behind him, attempting to disguise it as a cough a few moments too late. “How's it going, cowboy?”

The pants have reached his thighs and won't budge. He can feel sweat trailing down his spine from all the jumping and tugging. “Swimmingly. Enjoying the show… partner?” He strains to make his tone come off as nonchalant, which somehow makes it seem even more  _ I’m in love with my best friend and I'm trying very hard to play it cool. _

“Of course I am. It looks like you've been...held up...on the train tracks….by some, um, varmint-”

“I think it's time to drop the cowboy bit, it stopped being funny before we even started. Are you trying to tell me I’m stuck?” One more fruitless tug at the waistband. They get halfway up his thighs and decide to stay there. Chanyeol does a useless little shimmy and closes his eyes in hopelessness.

And then Kyungsoo’s small hands are at his waist, turning Chanyeol around before he can object. “I don't need to tell you you're stuck. I think you already know. Need a hand?” Kyungsoo is peering up at him with an adorably smug little smile, eyes squinted because he left his glasses on Chanyeol’s nightstand.

Sometimes he forgets why he's so far gone for Kyungsoo. Then Kyungsoo does things like this, and touches him with his strong soft hands and envelops him in his warm homey scent, like vanilla and clean laundry. After that, it's not very hard to remember why he loves him in every sort of way.

“Or two,” Chanyeol admits sheepishly, brushing his hair back from his forehead with the heel of his hand. Kyungsoo’s eyes crinkle with fondness, and- and god, Chanyeol just likes him so much. It kind of hurts.

They lift Chanyeol’s pants past his thighs on the count of three. It's much easier with double the strength, even if Kyungsoo remarks that it feels like stuffing a sausage into its casing. Kyungsoo claps a hand to Chanyeol’s chest in celebration, lingering there for a few moments afterwards. In Chanyeol’s eager little brain, it turns into a few minutes, and then an hour, and then a year.

“Now,” Kyungsoo sighs, looking down at them, “we’ve got to get them buttoned.”

It's funny, Chanyeol thinks, trying his hardest to  _ suck in, loser,  _ as Kyungsoo’s hands work to pull the two flaps of leather together over his stomach. He always imagined this the other way around- Kyungsoo unbuttoning his pants, not Kyungsoo using all of his strength to get Chanyeol  _ into  _ his pants. But this is fine too.

“I don't think it's going to work. You love my cooking too much,” Kyungsoo sighs, patting Chanyeol’s belly with a fond hand.

“You love feeding me too much,” Chanyeol retorts, folding his arms low over his chest. “Our apartment is all,  _ Chanyeol try this, Chanyeol taste that, Chanyeol don't get up I’ll get you seconds, C- _ ”

“So you want me to stop making you food?” Kyungsoo asks, his mouth a flat, disbelieving line. Like he knows Chanyeol is all talk.

“No! Oh god no, never say that to me again. I think my heart just stopped. I could never go back to Hot Pockets for dinner after living with you for so long.”

“You're too sweet. But we’re getting off track. Get on the bed and lay on your back.” Kyungsoo steps back, setting his hands on his narrow hips. It would be cute if Chanyeol wasn't having a mental and physical breakdown over the words that just came from Kyungsoo’s mouth. It's like he read straight from the script of one of his numerous embarrassing dreams that have starred Kyungsoo as the lead.

Kyungsoo snorts. “I'm going to button your pants, Yeol. This isn't a porno.”

Oh. That makes much more sense than what had been unfolding in Chanyeol’s head. He's not disappointed at all. Why would he be? So he does as Kyungsoo says, pushes aside the fiery snakes doing a dance deep in his belly. Kyungsoo looks down at him, teeth rolling over his thick bottom lip in a sneaky little smirk. He looks bigger than Chanyeol from this angle. He's wearing a big gray sweater that used to be Chanyeol’s, the sleeves rolled up so he can see his tensed forearms. It shouldn't be hot but it is, it really truly is, and Chanyeol struggles to keep himself composed. He can't ruin this  _ now,  _ not after working so hard to keep it hidden.

“Suck it in again, big guy. I won't die happy until I get you into these.” And, oh god, it happens before he can move away or breathe or die- Kyungsoo is sitting on top of him, straddling Chanyeol’s thighs. His weight is firm and solid, comforting and warm and soft and everything Chanyeol has ever wanted. It's not like they've never done this before. Kyungsoo lays his head in his lap when he's had a hard day, he lets Chanyeol sleep in his bed when he's homesick, he’s sat on Chanyeol’s lap during movie nights at Baekhyun’s when the only other option is the floor. This isn't out of the norm for them, but it only serves to rub salt into the gaping wound that is Chanyeol’s gigantic crush on Kyungsoo.

He lets himself open his eyes. Just for a second. Kyungsoo is arched over him, hair falling down into his face, lips pursed in concentration. His cheeks are a little pink from the exertion, and every time he pulls harder his thighs tense around Chanyeol’s. Chanyeol almost loses himself in it before remembering Kyungsoo’s proximity to his dick.  _ Think about your grandma. Think about your dead guinea pig. Think about your parent’s divorce. Think about- _

“Hey Yeol, your mom let me in-” The door swings open and Baekhyun immediately breaks off with a loud screech, shielding his eyes with his arm and knocking over Chanyeol’s lamp as he staggers away. “Quick question: why don't you fucking lock your door? Or just, like, hang a sock?”

Kyungsoo fits the button through the loop and rolls off Chanyeol guiltily, hands in the air like he's being arrested. Chanyeol mimics his pose, trying very hard not to cry.

“We weren't doing what you thought we were doing,” Kyungsoo explains calmly, tapping at Chanyeol’s elbow so he sits up. The pants pinch at his sides uncomfortably, but it's bearable for now.

“ _ This  _ time. What about the next time?” Baekhyun throws a hand out blindly, edging his way toward the door with his eyes still covered. “I was just going to tell you that Jongdae needs you guys to buy more snacks on the way. He underestimated how many people were going to come.”

“And you couldn't  _ text _  me this vital piece of information?” Kyungsoo sighs out, falling back on the bed next to Chanyeol. “Get out and help Jongdae drunk-proof his house.”

“Yeah, you're making my room smell like ripe twink,” Chanyeol chips in weakly, resting his temple against Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “Let us canoodle in peace.”

“If I didn't know every single detail about your sex life, your use of the word  _ canoodle _  would be enough to convince me of your virginity.” Baekhyun sighed out loud and shut the door. “Remember the snacks. I want Hot Cheetos.”

“This is why you don't have a boyfriend,” Chanyeol calls through the door. “They can't put up with your neediness.” He hears sharp laughter and then the blissful sound of Baekhyun’s shoes pounding down the stairs. And then they're alone again. Chanyeol’s still mildly hard.  _ Tentatively  _ aroused. It's disgusting.

“Well. Do you want me to drive?” Kyungsoo asks through a yawn, stretching his arms out above his head. “We should go now if we’re supposed to supply them with Hot Cheetos.”

“Wait, are you wearing that?” Chanyeol asks, reaching down and tugging at Kyungsoo’s sweatpants. They’re a pair of Jongin’s old dance pants, the crotch dropped and fabric tight around the ankles. They looked douchey on Jongin, but on Kyungsoo they look sexy in a comfortable way, especially this morning when he was making Chanyeol breakfast without a shirt on. The waistband had dropped down low, revealing small dimples in his back, the curve of his padded hipbones. It hurt him in a lot of different ways, but it was a great start to the day. They're fine normally, but Kyungsoo is going to  _ the  _ party.

“I'm not trying to get laid tonight, unlike some people,” Kyungsoo says, looking pointedly down at Chanyeol’s leather pants. “I'm going to catch up with our friends and make sure none of Jongdae’s heirlooms get broken. Same with your bones.”

“Don't you ever get tired of trying to keep everything in one piece? Or trying to keep  _ me  _ in one piece?” Chanyeol feels a sliver of guilt, then, for always making him worry. Maybe Kyungsoo would be able to relax more if Chanyeol wasn't so Chanyeol, if he was capable of feeding himself on a regular basis and not fucking up his laundry and working through and days on his own. Kyungsoo has to get sick of him sometimes. Only a saint could put up with all of Chanyeol’s general dumbassery.

“Oh, Yeol,” Kyungsoo says, his voice low and soft in a way it only is when Chanyeol has done something dumb. He reaches over and ruffles his hand through Chanyeol’s hair, his fingers lingering on his cheek. One thumb brushes across his cheekbone, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. “I could never get tired of you. Even when it seems like you're trying your hardest to put yourself in harm’s way. You balance me out. Okay?” He seems a little gruff when he finishes, like he's not used to putting that much of himself out there all at once, and Chanyeol’s stomach flips in dismay. He couldn't possibly love him any more than he does in this minute.

“Okay,” Chanyeol responds with a little smile, wiggling a little out of pure adoration. Sometimes it's too much for his body to contain and he just has to  _ move _ . “Let's get some Hot Cheetos. And probably condoms. Jongdae always forgets the condom bowl.”

***

“Oh, you guys remembered the condom bowl! Now my house won't become a fertility den. Love it.” Jongdae is a whirlwind of activity, moving from crowd to bar to girl to guy to snack and then back again. It's kind of terrifying and Kyungsoo has no idea where he manifests the energy to keep up with so many things at once. He used to envy people like that, but now all he wants to do is go home and curl up with some tea and Toben and watch Law and Order. And Chanyeol. Chanyeol is there too in his dream paradise, preferably, his head pillowed on his thigh or arms draped around Kyungsoo, squeezing him and failing to hold back his tears when particularly despicable crimes occur.

He loves him for that, for how he lives and feels so completely and without restraint. Even if it gets him into trouble sometimes. For instance, like now.

Kyungsoo is  _ not  _ clingy. Chanyeol is not his safety blanket. But he couldn't help the lost, homesick feeling that rose up in his chest as soon as Sehun arrived and swept Chanyeol away with the promise of fireworks. Chanyeol had slipped his arm from Kyungsoo’s shoulders, leaned down and whispered  _ I’ll be back in a few minutes  _ against the shell of his ear. Being this in love with your best friend sucked a lot. This was one of those times.

He knows Chanyeol doesn't mean to treat him like an afterthought. That's just the type of person he is: too excitable, jumping from one person to subject to hobby to the next, forgetful in all his enthusiasm. Kyungsoo is used to it now, but it still hurts a little when twenty minutes have gone by and Chanyeol still hasn't come back.

“Don't lose an eye,” Kyungsoo had called after him, but his voice had gotten lost in the music and the conversation. Anxiety soon settled around him like a thick cloud and made a home in his stomach, and he wraps his arms around his torso like he can ward it off on his own. He knows the only thing that will put him at ease is Chanyeol standing next to him.

This is his secret: Chanyeol has no idea how parties make Kyungsoo feel like a fish out of water. He has some idea, of course, but Chanyeol can't completely  comprehend how strange limbs nudging against his body sends him into panic mode. Chanyeol has no idea how much willpower it takes for Kyungsoo to keep from running for the nearest exit, and Chanyeol will never know, because then he would understand how much Kyungsoo  _ really  _ loves him, and everything would fall apart.

It makes sense in his head, at least.

It's been half an hour and Kyungsoo figures Chanyeol won’t be coming back anytime soon. His danger-senses aren't tingling yet, and he hasn't heard any explosions, so he decides it's not time to hover. Not yet. Jongdae shoved a drink into his hand when they first arrived but none of their friends have seemed to realize yet that Kyungsoo doesn't drink, so he dumps it out in the sink as soon as he’s able. The kitchen is less packed than the rest of the house- Jongdae had corralled the party away from that area, fearing any incidents with the stove. Drunk people and fire is generally a bad combination. He grabs a water from one of the tubs of ice (the fridge is ziptied shut, or else he’d steal some Fiji because he  _ knows  _ Jongdae is snobby enough to have it) and hoists himself onto the counter, leaning bodily against a cabinet.

He's sore and achey all over. Culinary school is hell on the body and mind and he spent eight hours standing in a hot kitchen yesterday. What he really wanted to do today was lay in bed and read the new book he'd bought two months ago (he never had the time to read it) but instead he’s here, for a boy who doesn't even love him back.  _ Smart choice, Kyungsoo. _  The boy in question just posted on instagram- it's a blurry shot of Sehun’s bare ass, and Kyungsoo reluctantly likes it. At least Chanyeol didn't die yet.

“Oh, hello?” A soft, unsure voice jerks him out of his iPhone induced trance, and Kyungsoo looks up. Standing in front of him is, against all odds, Joonmyun.

Joonmyun was Chanyeol’s RA during his freshman year. Kyungsoo had the emotional capacity then to sustain two crushes at once, and had nursed a small one on the preppy junior during the majority of the year. Everyone called him Mister President and made fun of his khakis and his neverending parade of pastel button-downs, but Kyungsoo had admired his neatness, how he knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life, how he would walk Kyungsoo from Chanyeol’s dorm to his Uber if he stayed too late. He’s always had a thing for gentlemen, and Joonmyun was the textbook definition of one.

“Joonmyun,” Kyungsoo says unsteadily, the syllables unfamiliar on his tongue. “It's been a while. Didn't you graduate?”

“A few months ago. Jongdae invited me for one last hurrah. Although,” he says, nose wrinkling in distaste, “this isn't really my kind of thing. It doesn't seem like yours, either. You never liked-” he flinches as the bass dropped in a song that sounded identical to all the others “-much noise.”

So he's still cute. He's really cute, actually, with his dumb cardigan and his perfect hair and his slightly chubby face. Kyungsoo wishes he had at least put his contacts in before he came. “I still don't. I just came to make sure Chanyeol doesn't die.”

“If I didn't know Chanyeol I wouldn't have taken that so literally. You're a god among men.” Joonmyun smiles up at him, leans his shoulder against the cabinet. It's almost enough to convince Kyungsoo that he could do this, that he could flirt with this guy, that he could kiss him without wishing that-

Chanyeol. But Chanyeol’s there, he’s always there, and even perfect men like Joonmyun aren't enough to edge him out of Kyungsoo’s heart. Not for the first time, he wonders what the hell is wrong with him.

“The last time I let him go to a party alone he came back wearing nothing but a monogrammed towel from Jongdae’s bathroom. It's kind of my duty.”

“That's not a duty, that's a full-time job. He's like a giant toddler.” Joonmyun smiles at him again, brushes his hand over his knee. It's fleeting but weighted. “Do you ever get nights off?”

“Sometimes. He usually entertains himself during the weekdays.” He doesn't know how to do this. Joonmyun is smiling at him and trying to flirt with him and he  _ wants _  to flirt back, but it's like trying to speak in a language he never even knew existed before. Any witty retort he would've had while talking with Chanyeol gets stuck and dies in his throat in the face of Joonmyun.

“That's good. You shouldn't have to work too hard. Is culinary school still going well for you?”

“Kyungsoo!  _ Kyungsooweneedyouhesstuckinthebathroom _ ,” Sehun shouts, scrambling into the kitchen with an unlit bottle rocket in his hands. “He-he had to piss, so I told him to piss before we lit the fireworks, so he  _ pissed,  _ and I don't know if his dick got stuck in the zipper or if he drowned and he won't open the  _ door  _ and all he said was  _ don’t get Kyungsoo _ -”

Kyungsoo sighs, but he feels a little warm. A little bubbly. It's nice to feel needed, isn't it? That's all it is. “I’m sorry, Joonmyun. Duty calls. You can find me later? If you want. I mean. Not like you  _ have _  to-”

“Hold on.” Joonmyun circles his hand around Kyungsoo’s wrist and uncaps a Sharpie from the counter, scribbling something on his skin before Kyungsoo can comprehend what's happening. Joonmyun’s number is inked in bold, black characters on Kyungsoo’s arm, complete with a cute little smile at the end. “I missed you a lot when Chanyeol left. I don't want this to be the last time I see you.”

He considers it. It doesn't take very long to decide. Joonmyun is kind and sweet and hardworking and he’s not afraid to tell Kyungsoo he likes him. If he ever gets over his best friend, Kyungsoo could very much see himself falling in love with someone like him. So he smiles, and it's genuine. “I’ve missed you too. Let's get together soon.”

Then he slides off the counter and leaves Joonmyun behind. He leaves the possibility of a kiss behind, leaves the possibility of moving on behind, because he's not quite ready to accept defeat yet. He can't move on, not now, even though he knows one day he’ll have to.

Besides. Chanyeol is having a bathroom crisis. Kyungsoo’s love life can wait.

***

“Oh god- Oh god, Sehun, you  _ promised,” _  Chanyeol wails through the door. “Anyone but Kyungsoo.”

“Oh, thanks. That's my best friend, everybody,” came Kyungsoo’s deadpan. Chanyeol groaned again, louder this time, slumping against the wall in despair.

An outsider looking in through the window would see this: Chanyeol’s leather pants scrunched around his ankles, baby powder and lotion caked into a sticky paste on his legs, one of his shoes floating in the toilet, and Chanyeol himself, red-faced and brimming with embarrassment.

“Everybody else is  _ drunk, _ ” Sehun whines. “Besides, Kyungsoo always knows what to do.”

“At least someone appreciates me around here. Now can someone tell me what’s going on?”

Chanyeol moans again. He's getting really good at the wailing thing. He could probably play a ghost at a haunted house if he honed his skills a little more. Truly terror-inducing. Nothing in this moment was scarier than Kyungsoo, though.

It had happened like this:

Chanyeol needed to pee. Like an idiot, he shimmied out of his pants to the ankles because he wanted to let his legs breathe. After he felt the blood pumping in his limbs again, he tried to pull his pants back on. This was where the despair comes in. They would not, no matter what Chanyeol did, come back on.

And Chanyeol tried a  _ lot.  _ Sehun had coached him through it, obviously, like a good friend would.

“Why don't you coat yourself with baby powder? Those babies will just, fucking,  _ slide  _ right back on. It’s science. Your legs won't be sweaty so the, um, the suction won't… Suck.”

So he tried that. His pants stayed bunched around his ankles, and now he was covered in baby powder. It smelled nice, but he kept breathing it in and sneezing and he's pretty sure he was going to die.

“Does Jongdae have lotion? Maybe it's like a condom. You have to like, lube yourself up, and then slither on in. Like a snake shedding its skin but  _ reverse. _ ”

Chanyeol had once again trusted Sehun’s judgment, and the lotion had clumped up with the powder and formed a sticky, unpleasant smelling paste. Like glue, but if it was made by depressed eels. So now he was sticky and cold and upset and sneezy, and the last thing he needed was for Kyungsoo to see him like this. So of course, that's who Sehun had called on for help. What else could he have expected?

“I'm sure it's not that bad,” Kyungsoo says. His voice is low and soothing, like he’s trying to invite a wild animal into his arms. “Whatever it is, you know I can fix it.”

“Because you can fix everything,” Chanyeol sniffed. “Because you're perfect.”

“Was that sarcasm? Because I could just abandon you here-”

“No! It was real. You're perfect and you're good at everything you do and I'm so lucky I get to wake up to you every single day. You're  _ wonderful _ ,” Chanyeol scrambles to fix his mistake. He hopes that Kyungsoo can feel his sincerity through the door, how much he really truly means it.

Silence. “Let me in, Chanyeol.” Chanyeol reaches up and unlocks the door with a gentle click. Kyungsoo opens it a smidge, just enough for him to edge through the crack before Sehun can catch a glimpse, and then locks the door behind him.

“Oh,” Kyungsoo breathes out. His hands are on his hips again, like they always are when Chanyeol makes a mess. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Chanyeol mumbles, chin pressed against his chest. “I missed you.”

“I can see that,” Kyungsoo says. He laughs a little, but it's not cruel, and- and there it is, that's why Chanyeol is in love with him. He's just  _ there  _ for him in a way nobody else ever is, and he lets Chanyeol be there for him too. “Here's what we’re going to do. You're going to take your pants off and get in Jongdae’s shower and wash all of that off. Then you’re going to wear my sweatpants and I’m going to wear your pants. And  _ then  _ we’re going home.”

He loves him. “I love you,” Chanyeol says weakly, eyes brimming with tears. “You always know what to do.”

Kyungsoo fights to keep a smile off his face, but it turns into a blush instead, and Chanyeol wishes he wasn't covered in baby powder. If he was clean, he would wrap him up in a giant hug. Nothing more, because Chanyeol isn't that brave.

“Stop being cute. You're still in trouble.” But Kyungsoo’s voice is so level and fond, and his eyes are tender when he turns the shower on, and Chanyeol knows he's already been forgiven for the mess he's made.

Kyungsoo sits on the counter while Chanyeol cleans himself off in the shower, averting his eyes but not his ears. When Chanyeol starts humming a tune to some pop song he heard on the ride over, Kyungsoo starts singing on top of it, and soon their voices are mixing in a harmony that enchants Chanyeol every time he hears it. He doesn't want to sound cheesy, but it's like their voices were made to blend. If there is such a thing as soulmates, he thinks, he's found his.

When he comes out, Kyungsoo is in his briefs. They're dark blue and his thighs spread out over the countertop in a way that makes Chanyeol’s chest feel too tight. He's dreamed about this too, only in his dream, he picks Kyungsoo up, feels his thighs clasp around his waist, kisses him until he can't breathe, does things to him that has him gasping awake at night with guilt and shame and arousal. He's dying, maybe.

Kyungsoo kicks his legs back and forth, eyes closed. His feet don't hit the floor. He's  _ adorable. _

“Are you still naked?” he asks, squishing his eyes shut tighter.

“Nah, coast is clear. Nothing’s dangling.”

“What a shame,” Kyungsoo comments drily. “I was so excited to see the dangly bits. Pants are over there.”

Chanyeol shuffles into Kyungsoo’s sweatpants with a reverence bordering on ridiculous. They're still warm from his body heat, and he tries not to think about how Kyungsoo was wearing these just a few seconds before, how his thighs and his legs and his everything was just-

And he's being creepy. They're just pants.

Kyungsoo, meanwhile, has struggled into the leather pants. He's smaller than Chanyeol, but he's thicker than him, so it's a bit more of a struggle to button them. Chanyeol doesn't waste time thinking before his hands grab both the flaps, joining Kyungsoo’s as they pull them together. The button closes easily with Chanyeol’s help, and then they're just… standing there. Together, too close, the bathroom thick with steam and imaginary tension.

“They look nicer on you than on me,” Chanyeol says, smiling down at him. “Do a little spin.” Kyungsoo smacks his wet chest with a gentle  _ thwap.  _ Why is Chanyeol always the half naked one? It seems unfair.

“Stop objectifying me and put your shirt on so we can go home.” He doesn't need to spin. Chanyeol is an awful person and caught a glimpse in the mirror. Kyungsoo has a  _ really  _ nice ass and it’s stretching out the leather in all the best ways.

“You hate parties, don't you?” Chanyeol remarks, shrugging his shirt on. He abandons his shoes-they belong to the toilet now. Jongdae can keep them if he wants. It's a short walk from there to their car. Chanyeol keeps a hand at the small of his back as they walk- not like Kyungsoo needs any guidance. He just wants to remind him that he's there.

“Absolutely. But I hate seeing you get hurt even more than I hate parties, so… I put up with the lesser of two evils.” Kyungsoo opens the passenger door and ushers Chanyeol inside before Chanyeol can even protest. “It's-”

“Kyungsoo!” A figure jogs out of the house. Chanyeol’s eyes have always been shitty but even when the guy steps closer, he doesn't recognize him until he spots the cardigan and the khakis. He hasn't seen Joonmyun in at least a year, but those boat shoes were unmistakeable. And yet Joonmyun wasn't here to talk to his former dorm resident, he was here for…

“Kyungsoo! I promise I'm not stalking you. I just wanted to invite you to my housewarming party. Apartmentwarming, I guess. I forgot to ask you when we were talking earlier. It's next Saturday?” Joonmyun is smiling that blinding future president smile, and he's smiling at Kyungsoo. Joonmyun’s perfect presidential hand is grasping Kyungsoo’s elbow, and they're laughing together at a joke Chanyeol missed, and it makes him feel sick and sad and swollen and out of balance. He settles back in his seat and rolls the window up until he can't hear them anymore, like a petulant little child.

They look good together. They're both short and cute and Chanyeol should be  _ happy,  _ he guesses, because Joonmyun is a really kind person and he would treat Kyungsoo exactly how he deserves to be treated. He should've seen this coming. Someone was going to realize how amazing Kyungsoo is, sooner or later. Chanyeol couldn't have him all to himself forever.

He just figured he would have a little more time.

Chanyeol looks at them one more time, and it's a mistake. Joonmyun is darting forward, kissing Kyungsoo’s cheek gently. He's opening his car door for him, like a  _ gentleman.  _ His stomach is bubbling with rage and jealousy and seven different flavors of ugly.

Kyungsoo gets in the car. His cheeks are slightly pink. Chanyeol tries not to look like he's about to leap outside and battle Joonmyun for dominance. They both just sit there for a moment, watching Joonmyun walk back to the house. Kyungsoo’s fingers are clenching and unclenching over the steering wheel, arms tensed. Then he sighs.

“I can't wait to go  _ home _ ,” Kyungsoo says, like they're coming back from a long journey. Chanyeol thinks about it for a moment. His toothbrush in the jar alongside Kyungsoo’s. Their plates, chipped and cracked from all the times Chanyeol has dropped them. Their laundry, mixed together constantly after they gave up on trying to keep it separate. Their sofa, where Chanyeol gets to hold Kyungsoo when he's had an especially bad day, where they pet  _ their  _ dog together, where Chanyeol cries into Kyungsoo’s lap when they rewatch Marley and Me. The place that they built together. Joonmyun doesn't have that, but Chanyeol does.

“Yeah,” he agrees softly. “I miss our place.” Our place, he says, because it feels nice to remind himself that they have a place that only belongs to them.

***

Chanyeol doesn't bring up what he's dubbed in his mind as “The Joonmyun Thing” for a solid fourteen hours. He passed out as soon as he got home and slept through breakfast. Kyungsoo woke him up for lunch and the warm ham and cheese panini would've been enough to make him forget all about it if not for the number scrawled on Kyungsoo’s arm in bold black ink. Like a tattoo.

“Is that Joonmyun’s?” he says carefully, swallowing first because it makes Kyungsoo happy when he chews with his mouth closed.

“It is,” Kyungsoo answers, and now they're both being careful. They're both being careful and cautious and perfectly polite and Chanyeol wants to rip his hair out.

“Are you going to his…  _ housewarming party? _ ”

“Why did you say it like that?” Kyungsoo says, laughing stiffly. He gets up from the kitchen table, throws the rest of his lunch out just so he has a dish to wash. Chanyeol grew up with this boy- he knows all of Kyungsoo’s tricks and habits.

“Like what? I said it like I would say anything. Listen:  _Hot Topic holiday sale._   _Juggalo parade. Frozen bananas._  I can't help what my voice sounds like.”

“You said it like-like he's boring. Don't you like him?” The dish is clean and Kyungsoo is still scrubbing. His back is arched too tightly and Chanyeol wishes Kyungsoo would just look at him.

“I never said he's boring. Maybe  _ you  _ think he's boring, subconsciously, so you convinced yourself I said it weirdly.” He's being cold and mean and he knows it but he can't stop himself. Chanyeol is terrified and when he's afraid the most awful things tumble out of his mouth. Like a wild animal that's been cornered, acting on fear and instinct. It can't be stopped. Chanyeol hopes his teeth fall out or he chokes on air or- or something.

“Don't be like this,” Kyungsoo says softly. “There's no reason to be like this.”

He's upset. Chanyeol can feel it, can feel the sunlight fading from their apartment, can feel all the life being sucked from it like they've been stuck in a vacuum bag. He's upset and it's even worse because it's Chanyeol’s fault.

“He's not boring,” Chanyeol relents, eyes boring holes into Kyungsoo’s back. He's willing him to turn around but he won't. He won't move until Chanyeol leaves the room. He knows how this goes. “He's not boring and I'm sorry. He's really nice and sweet and smart. I just don't… I don’t get why you like him.”

The plate clatters against the bottom of the sink. Chanyeol watches as Kyungsoo grips the countertop. His small soft hands are turning white at the knuckles. He wants to grab them and hold them and apologize, but he keeps- he keeps  _ speaking _  and making it worse and never knowing when to stop. What does he hope to gain from this?  _ Oh, I don't like him at all. Why would I? He's got lots of money and a college degree and a job and khakis, but who cares about all that? I love you Chanyeol! _

In a perfect world.

“Who said I like him?” Kyungsoo says. His voice is deadly quiet.

“I figured- I mean, his number is on your arm, and he made you laugh, and he's got his life in order. That's basically the perfect guy, right?” Chanyeol coughs once, twice, trying to dislodge the itch in his throat. It doesn't work. “And you're going to his housewarming party.”

Kyungsoo squeezes the countertop. Once, then twice, and then he turns around. His eyes are shiny and his hair is a mess. There's a soap bubble on his cheek and Chanyeol, obviously, has an intense urge to kiss it away.

“I don't like him, and I'm not going to his housewarming party. I'm going to stay home on Saturday and cook for us and watch a movie with you and Toben, and it's going to be a wonderful night.”

“O-oh.” Chanyeol feels like he's been unhinged. Like Kyungsoo pushed him down and then kissed all of his bruises better. “But. He kissed you.”

“Why can't he kiss me? Maybe people want to kiss me. Is that okay with you?” Now Kyungsoo is being weird and mean, and Chanyeol feels his throat clog up, thickening like he's just poured marmalade down it.

He doesn't  _ want  _ people to kiss Kyungsoo. He should be the one kissing him. He should be the one opening his car door and smiling at him and inviting him to stupid parties and  _ kissing  _ him. But he can't say that, and now he's completely stuck.

“I don't want him to kiss you,” Chanyeol blurts out, digging his nails into his thighs underneath the table. It was the wrong thing to say but what other option was there? He can't confess, not now, not when Kyungsoo is so upset and angry with him.

Kyungsoo’s lips drop apart before he schools his expression back into a calm, icy mask. His eyes are almost flickering with- Chanyeol isn't sure what, but he assumes it has to be anger. He melts under his gaze, trying not to look like a kicked puppy.

“I don't belong to you,” Kyungsoo says softly, shoulders tense. “That's not fair. You can't just keep me here. I can't stop doing things just because you don't  _ want  _ me too.”

Chanyeol’s making a mess. He's ruining everything- he thought he would have ruined it in the other way, what with his giant crush, but now Kyungsoo is just angry and resentful and thinks Chanyeol is being a nasty, possessive friend. Emphasis on friend.

“That's not- that's not what I meant. Kyungsoo,” he breaks off, voice laden with frustration. How to make him understand? The only option is to tell him, but that's so frightening that it's just another non-option.

“Then what did you mean?” Kyungsoo’s voice is quiet, dangerous. Like the calm before the storm. Chanyeol doesn't know how to come out of this unscathed.

So he stands up. His chair falls back with a loud screech against the tiles, and Kyungsoo winces. His shoulders are hunched and drawn, like he’s cold. He looks awfully small and sad. Chanyeol made him sad and he wants to die.

“I have to go to class soon,” Chanyeol says. It’s barely true; he’s got an hour before he needs to go anywhere. Every nerve in his body is standing at attention, screaming at him to stop. He is very aware that he's being an idiot. There’s just no other option. Kyungsoo stares at him, wide eyed. He’s hurt. It's easy to tell.

Chanyeol leaves. Kyungsoo is still standing at the sink when he shuts the front door behind him.

***

The last few days have been weird. Not bad, necessarily. Just strained in a way that things between them rarely are. When Chanyeol came home from class after their little whatever-it-was (Kyungsoo is reluctant to call it a fight, because they never fight), he was strangely bright. His smile was too chipper. Kyungsoo had watched him shed his bags and his coat, watched as he kneeled down and pet Toben. He looked like he was trying very hard to pretend nothing had changed.

But everything had. Kyungsoo still doesn't know what Chanyeol meant and it’s eating away at him.

Today's been the worst out of them all. Chanyeol’s barely been home even though Kyungsoo knows he doesn't have class today. He made a gigantic mess in the kitchen before Kyungsoo even woke up, and when Kyungsoo asked him what was going on via text, he just responded with a smiley face. Like this: :>}. With a nose and everything.

He doesn’t come home until nine at night. Kyungsoo knew he was a grown man and everything, but he couldn't help himself from holing up on the couch and researching how to file a missing person’s report. Just in case. His entire body deflated in relief when he heard Chanyeol’s keys jingling in the front door, his heavy footsteps pounding through the threshold. It never feels like home until Chanyeol’s there too, even if they’ve been weird and off kilter lately.

Big hands cover his eyes, and all he can see is blackness. Chanyeol’s barely-concealed laughter is vibrating behind him- he can hear it bouncing around in his chest, in his closed mouth. Kyungsoo is completely confused but he can't stop himself from smiling at nothing.

“It's your favorite person in the whole world,” Chanyeol sings shakily. Hesitantly, like he's nervous it's not true anymore. Kyungsoo wants to roll his eyes but it's not like he could see it if he did. “I’ve come to sweep you off your feet.”

“This sounds dangerous and probably illegal.”

“Not this time! I promise. This time it’s one-hundred percent, organic, farm grown, Chanyeol-brand good wholesome fun. You're going to love it. Now stand up.” He can't see him, but Kyungsoo is fairly sure Chanyeol’s doing that cute wiggly thing he does when he gets too excited. Like a little kid, or a puppy.

Kyungsoo obeys. Chanyeol keeps his hands over his eyes as Kyungsoo blindly toes his shoes on. He leads him down the hallway of their apartment building, whispers directions in his ear when it's time to go left or right or upstairs. Their progress is awkward and bumbling and Chanyeol’s hands are kind of sweaty, but Kyungsoo  _ missed  _ him. He missed this so much and he wouldn't trade it for anything, even if Chanyeol is leading him to his death.

“Okay, watch your head-” Kyungsoo ducks down when Chanyeol warns him, and then they’re...outside? They’re outside. The wind is blowing and biting at his skin, and he can hear the faint growling of cars in the distance. Chanyeol lifts his hands from over Kyungsoo’s eyes.

Laid out in front of him is the prettiest thing he's ever seen. He’s only been on the roof of their apartment building once before, when Toben got loose in their building and they had checked absolutely  _ everywhere.  _ That time, it had been an ugly mess of concrete and miscellaneous stains. Now it’s completely transformed. There’s a blanket spread over one corner of the roof, covering the concrete. Fairy lights are strung around the low brick walls, bathing everything in a dim glow. There’s a  _ picnic basket _ . Where did Chanyeol even get one of those?

Chanyeol pulls his phone from his pocket and hits a button, and music starts pouring out of the speaker they use to listen to music while they shower. And- Kyungsoo recognizes this song. It's  _ their  _ song. When they went to prom together, and Chanyeol persuaded him to dance, and the music got slow just as he pulled him out onto the floor. Chanyeol had just shrugged and pulled him closer, hands fumbling nervously around his waist. Kyungsoo remembers him singing the lyrics in his ear in his low, scratchy tone, mouth almost brushing against his ear.  _ I fall in love too easily, I fall in love too fast.  _ He could feel Chanyeol’s voice reverberating in his chest. That was the first time he fell in love with him, he thinks.

Chanyeol probably remembered it differently. At least, that's what he used to believe. He's not so sure anymore.

“This is for you, because I'm sorry for being an asshole about the Joonmyun thing. That was really shitty and mean and I shouldn't have said anything. You can kiss whoever you want. You don't need my permission.” Chanyeol laughs nervously and rubs his palms against his jeans. “Obviously. Um, do you want to sit?”

“Oh, Yeol.” Kyungsoo can't stop smiling. It's like his lips are permanently frozen. He lets Chanyeol lead him to the blanket. Chanyeol smooths it out with his foot before he motions for Kyungsoo to sit. “You didn't have to do all of this. You could've just bought me a pizza.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Chanyeol settles down beside him and nudges his thigh with his knee. “You deserve more than a pizza. I would do this for you every night, except carrying all of this stuff up here fucked up my back. And the super wasn’t psyched to give me rooftop access. It took grade-A begging.”

“Still. You’re too sweet all the time,” Kyungsoo says softly, trying not to look too fond when he gazes at him. “It's unfair. Save some for the rest of us.”

Chanyeol grins down at him. His dark hair is frizzing up and his hoodie is stretched out and linty. His bony elbows keep knocking into Kyungsoo and he can't sit still. He's so perfect that it hurts.

“What I said earlier,” Chanyeol says. His grin fades a little in wattage, gets a little too dim for Kyungsoo’s liking. He’s got a paper napkin in his hands and Kyungsoo watches him pull it apart for a moment, entranced. “That was a lie. And I want to stop lying to you, because you don't deserve that. You deserve someone who's brave, so… I’m going to try to be brave for a minute.”

He halts, like he’s waiting for Kyungsoo’s approval. His hands never stop moving, anxiously twisting the napkin into shreds. If he's going to be brave, so can Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo reaches over and pulls one of Chanyeol’s hands into his lap. The size of it always shocks him- he's just so much bigger than Kyungsoo. He twines his fingers with Chanyeol’s thick calloused ones, squeezing tightly as a silent urge to continue. After a few tense moments, Chanyeol squeezes back.

“I lied, before. About the kissing thing. I care a lot about who you kiss. Thinking about Joonmyun getting to kiss you made me so- afraid, I guess.” Chanyeol’s throat bobs. “And jealous. Really jealous. Because I want to be the guy who gets to kiss you.”

It looks so easy for him to say it. How is it all so simple for Chanyeol? Like- he wants something, so he just  _ does  _ it. No hesitations, no reservations.  _ Kyungsoo, I want to kiss you.  _ It's like telling him what he wants for dinner.

“And if you don't want that-” Chanyeol starts, obviously unnerved by Kyungsoo’s silence. Kyungsoo doesn't know what to do first. Does he kiss him? Should they talk more? He's not sure if this is real. He barely even lets himself dream about this. Having it happen in real life, and so quickly, is almost too overwhelming to comprehend. It feels like all of his organs are shutting down simultaneously.

“Chanyeol. Stop talking.” Kyungsoo fixed Chanyeol with that  _ listen to me  _ stare that always gets him to shut up and pay attention. He considers him for a moment: eyes shiny and hopeful, teeth worrying at his bottom lip. This is the first time Chanyeol has ever looked this nervous. The fact that it's because of  _ Kyungsoo  _ is too ridiculous to swallow. He likes him? He likes him back, after all this time?

Kyungsoo smiles. Maybe he can be brave too.

“Breathe, Chanyeol. It’s just me. There's nothing to be afraid of.” Chanyeol’s fingers tighten around his hand. The pressure is just encroaching on bone-breaking territory, but he would have to be the worst kind of idiot to pull away now. “Did you really think I wouldn't want you?”

The cogs turning in Chanyeol’s brain seems to screech to a stop. His grip on Kyungsoo goes limp, his breathing stutters. “Wait. Let me catch up. You like me back?” His eyes widen, slide off of Kyungsoo’s face and roll up towards the night sky. “Bro.”

“Dude,” Kyungsoo mimics, trying very hard not to roll his eyes. He’s surprised at how simple this feels. He never pictured the transition from friends to boyfriends being so effortless.  _ Boyfriend.  _ Chanyeol’s going to be his boyfriend. Chanyeol Park likes him and he wants to be his boyfriend.

“I'm sorry, I'm just- Holy fuck. You  _ like  _ me. This isn't a joke, right? You're not just trying to save my feelings?” Chanyeol’s eyes are watering, the deep brown reflecting the golden lights he hung. If he cries, Kyungsoo will probably cry too, and then they won't be able to kiss because all the tears will drown them.

“I’ve had a crush on you since we were teenagers,” Kyungsoo confesses quickly before he loses his nerve. He's not used to all of this openness. No more lies, no more secrecy. It's going to take some time before he can stop blushing.

“Oh god,” Chanyeol says, his voice thick with emotion. One fat tear rolls down his cheek, and another quickly follows. Then he’s full on sniffling, pulling his sleeve over his hand and swiping it across his nose and patting at his eyes. “I'm sorry, you’re just making me so happy. Can I-Can I kiss you? Even though I'm all snotty and moist?”

Kyungsoo breathes out through a tender little smile, utterly endeared to this big dumb guy. He cries too much and he breaks everything and he forgets stuff all the time and he  _ loves  _ him. “You don't even have to ask,” he says.

He discovers two things very quickly: first, Chanyeol is the sloppiest kisser he’s ever seen. It's all lips and tongue, and when they pull away, Kyungsoo’s chin is wet with spit and he’s pretty sure it's not his own. Second, he loves it. He loves it so fiercely that it scares him. He loves Chanyeol’s enthusiasm, how he’s so eager to kiss Kyungsoo that he forgets himself completely. His big hands are warm on his face, carding through his hair, tracing the shell of his ear. When they pull away, Chanyeol’s looking at him like he's the most precious thing on the planet.

“I love you,” he says through a gigantic smile that Kyungsoo can't help but mirror. His dark eyes are sparkling like jewels, the corners crinkled with happiness. He's the most beautiful thing Kyungsoo has ever seen, probably. “You don't have to say it back. I know it's different now even though I say it all the time. But I love you a lot.”

And then he's kissing him again. Kyungsoo should've figured that Chanyeol would be a giant romantic. Chanyeol takes a breath and lowers his hands to Kyungsoo’s waist, clasps him tight and tugs him closer.

“Yeol,” Kyungsoo says, reaching up and setting his hands on Chanyeol’s cheeks. They're burning beneath his hands. He almost forgets what he's going to say- Chanyeol is just as handsome up close as from a distance, and his lips are swollen and shiny from kissing, and the smattering of acne on his cheek is so adorable. “I’ve been in love with you my whole life. So keep kissing me.”

Short and sweet and to the point. It doesn't give Chanyeol anything else to worry about. It's so strange- he always figured it would be the other way around, with Kyungsoo having to fight through his anxieties, while Chanyeol puts him at ease. Chanyeol’s mouth falls open in another sunbeam smile, and then they're kissing again, just as Kyungsoo asked. They've got years to make up for, after all.

***

Even later, when they’re curled up together, looking up at the stars, Chanyeol can’t shake the fear that this is all a cruel joke. It has to end at some point, right? The cameramen will reveal themselves and Ashton Kutcher will tell him that he just got Punk’d. He would cry a lot and possibly try to jump off the roof, but at least it would make more sense. Even as he was setting this up, he was mentally preparing for failure. He painstakingly rehearsed what he would say when Kyungsoo inevitably turned him down.  _ Don't be sorry. No hard feelings. I didn't expect you to feel the same way. Anyways, I made sandwiches. Take one! _

But he loves him. Kyungsoo  _ loves  _ him. He's snuggling under the stars with the boy of his dreams in his arms. What more could anyone want?

Kyungsoo makes a low noise in his throat, shifting in Chanyeol’s arms until his cold nose presses against his bare neck. His lips follow shortly after, although they’re warmer and much, much softer. At some point, his hand had slipped under Chanyeol’s hoodie and settled on top of his belly, rubbing smooth circles into it now and then.

Basically, he’s never been so content in his life.

“Maybe I should wear those pants more often,” Chanyeol muses at the stars, snorting when Kyungsoo stiffens underneath his arms. “They got you to fall in love with me, didn't they?”

“Yeah, that was it. Seeing you weeping on Jongdae’s bathroom floor while you were covered in baby powder was so sexy. I had to restrain myself from ripping your clothes off right there-”

“I get it. Please don't make me relive that.”

“Then please throw the pants away as soon as we go back home. I love you, but I'm never stuffing you into those again.” A little shiver runs through him when he says that, and Kyungsoo laughs at him. “Did you like that? I love you.”

“One more time,” Chanyeol says through a smile. “Actually, keep saying it and I’ll  _ consider  _ throwing them out.”

“If it’s for a good cause,” Kyungsoo says, feigning a heavy sigh. He presses a kiss underneath Chanyeol’s jaw. “I love you, I love you, I lo-”

“I’ll never get tired of that,” Chanyeol nearly shouts into the sky. He has the urge to yell it out at the street below, just so everybody knows that Kyungsoo  _ loves  _ him. Maybe he’ll ask the newspaper to publish a public announcement.  _ Chanyeol Park has finally professed his love for Kyungsoo Do. _

Maybe tomorrow. Tonight, though, he's going to kiss Kyungsoo until he runs out of air, and then he’s going to wake up tomorrow and do it again. And then, maybe, he’ll burn the pants. Just maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> congratulations for making it all the way through! love you. i also love comments! this is the first in my "chanyeol and kyungsoo are childhood friends to roommates to boyfriends" au and i'm probably gonna mess around a lot with it. :*
> 
> p.s. the song they danced to was "i fall in love too easily" sung by chet baker


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